


been here all night

by theglitterati



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Gym Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati
Summary: Nobody gets any sleep after the Black Jackals lose. Atsumu and Kiyoomi make the most of their night.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 239





	been here all night

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Side to Side" by Ariana Grande, because this is _that_ kinda fic.

Atsumu stood in the doorway of their building's gym, admiring the view. Kiyoomi was on the lat machine, his back to Atsumu, doing pulldowns. Every downward drag on the bar pinched his shoulder blades together, loose tank top showing off the ripples of his defined muscles. Despite their game six hours ago, he worked hard and fast, weights clinking up the upstrokes, clanging every time he dropped them. Atsumu counted his reps, ten, twenty, thirty-five in a row before Kiyoomi stopped for a drink.

“Do you want something, Miya?” he asked without turning. “Or are you going to stand there and stare at me all night?”

“Maybe starin’ at ya _was_ what I wanted.” Atsumu crossed the room, hands settling on Kiyoomi’s shoulders. He dug his fingers in, kneading them. “Yer overworkin’ yerself, Omi.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“You weren’t answerin’ my texts.”

Kiyoomi snorted, brushing Atsumu’s hands off and facing him. “It’s two in the morning. I could have been asleep.”

“Nah, no one’s sleepin’ up there. Bokkun’s got the whole floor awake.” The Black Jackals rented a floor in a company dormitory for their young, unmarried players. Atsumu had the misfortune of having Bokuto as a suitemate.

“Are he and Akaashi having obnoxiously loud sex again?”

“I wish. Bokkun’s cryin’ about losin’ today and Akaashi’s tellin’ him how proud of him he is of him. It’s enough to drive a guy nuts. Speaking of which,” Atsumu added, “ya gonna tell me why yer down here?”

“We all have our ways of dealing with losing,” Kiyoomi said. “At least mine’s productive.” They had suffered a tough defeat against the Green Rockets that night, losing after three sets. Kiyoomi had missed the receive that decided the game.

“It ain’t productive to injure yerself in the middle of the season,” Atsumu pointed out. “Besides, I got a better way of gettin’ over it.” He dropped into Kiyoomi’s lap, straddling him. “Three guesses what it is.”

“Sex.”

“Ding ding. How’d ya know?”

“Because it’s your answer to everything,” Kiyoomi said. “I’m not fucking you with Bokuto wailing in the next room.”

“We’ve got a perfectly good room right here. It’s not like anyone’s gonna come in this late.”

“I’m exhausted—”

“Then I’ll do all the work. Come on, Omi.” Atsumu leaned into him, letting his breath tickle Kiyoomi’s ear. He shivered, and Atsumu knew he’d won. “Let me make ya feel good, babe.”

Kiyoomi gave a put-upon sigh that Atsumu saw right through. “Fine.” Atsumu smirked behind his back.

He grabbed Kiyoomi by the hair and kissed him hard, biting at his bottom lip until he opened his mouth and let him in. Kiyoomi kissed the way he did everything else: meticulous, practiced, efficient. That wouldn’t do tonight. Atsumu wanted to loosen him up, make him lose control. He kissed messily over Kiyoomi’s jawline, down his long neck to his collarbones.

“Ugh,” Kiyoomi mumbled. “I’m sweaty.”

“I’m aware. It’s a good look for ya.” Kiyoomi’s hair was damp under Atsumu’s hands, curling more wildly than usual, his face flushed.

Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. “Seriously, it’s hot.” Atsumu licked a long stripe across his collarbone to prove it.

“You’re gross,” Kiyoomi said, but his voice pitched lower, giving him away.

“You love it.” Atsumu crashed their lips together, salt from Kiyoomi’s skin mingling with the sweet taste of his mouth.

He continued taking Kiyoomi apart with his tongue, stopping only to tug Kiyoomi’s tank top over his head so he could touch him more freely. It was unfair how good Kiyoomi looked and felt like this, all hard lines and glistening skin. Atsumu would never admit it, but he sometimes thought his boyfriend might actually be hotter than him.

Kiyoomi liked him fine, though. He grabbed Atsumu’s ass, dragging him closer until his hands found their favourite spot: Atsumu’s thighs. He dug his nails in, leaving scratches as he trailed them down. “These shorts are obscene,” he muttered. Atsumu’s lavender running shorts barely covered his ass, and they did nothing to hide his erection.

Atsumu snapped the waistband of Kiyoomi’s leggings. “And these aren’t?”

“At least I have underwear on.”

“Not for long.”

Atsumu hopped off him and stripped, throwing his shorts and tshirt on the floor before wresting off Kiyoomi’s leggings and freeing his cock. If anyone came in now, there would be no denying what they were doing. Atsumu couldn’t find it in himself to care. They’d get a good show, anyway.

He straddled Kiyoomi again and grinded his hips, both of them sighing as their lengths aligned. Atsumu wrapped his hand around them, using Kiyoomi’s sweat and his own precome to slick them up. Kiyoomi’s head fell back against the machine, his lips parting in a quiet moan.

His hands went back to Atsumu’s ass, parting his cheeks. He froze when one of his fingers brushed against his entrance. “What the—”

“I might’ve gotten started without ya,” Atsumu said. “I like to come prepared.”

Kiyoomi swirled his finger around his hole. “What if I hadn’t been here?”

“Coulda had some fun on my own.” He yanked on the bar above their heads. “These handles got a nice rib to ‘em— ah!” 

Kiyoomi slipped a finger inside him. “Forget I asked.” Atsumu was happy to comply.

Kiyoomi began stretching him open, but Atsumu had already done the work; Kiyoomi was three fingers deep in under a minute. “Fuck, Atsumu.” He twisted his wrist — hypermobility was a goddamn miracle — pressing against Atsumu’s prostate until he cried out. “You brought a condom, right?”

Atsumu retrieved one from his shorts with some difficulty. “Like I said,” he panted. “Came prepared.” He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it onto Kiyoomi’s cock. Kiyoomi cleaned his fingers on his towel.

It took Atsumu some maneuvering to get onto him; he didn’t have much leverage. Kiyoomi leaned against the machine’s support bar while Atsumu held the sides of it, lowering himself down. Thanks to his thorough prep, there was more of a burn in his thighs than anywhere else.

“Shit, you feel good,” Kiyoomi said.

“Told ya my way was better.”

Atsumu rolled his hips, getting used to the feeling of Kiyoomi inside him. He planted his feet and lifted himself until he was almost off of him, then dropped onto his dick. They both groaned. Atsumu did it again, faster, setting the pace.

Kiyoomi felt incredible, but he looked ever better. His flush extended down his chest, which heaved as he breathed heavily, his full lower lip jutting out. Atsumu had a bit of an obsession with that lip; Kiyoomi had a natural pout, nothing like the face Atsumu made when he was trying to get what he wanted. Atsumu pressed his thumb into the meat of his lip and dragged it to the side, then leaned in to bite it. When he drew back, it was red and plump, shining with Atsumu’s saliva. 

Yeah, Kiyoomi was definitely hotter than him. Good thing he was nowhere near as vain.

“Atsumu.” Kiyoomi squirmed underneath him. He’d slowed his hips, getting lost in Kiyoomi’s face. “More.”

“Whatever ya say, babe.” Atsumu moved faster, thanking the gods for every squat he’d ever done. He bounced on Kiyoomi’s cock, his own bobbing between them, precome beading at the tip. He’d complain that Kiyoomi hadn’t touched him yet, but he thought if he did, he might just—

“Ah, fuck!” A sharp pain shot through Atsumu's knee, making him drop into Kiyoomi’s lap. 

“What happened?”

“I hit my knee on the bar. Mother of all fucks, that hurts.” He rested his head on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, catching his breath.

Kiyoomi tapped his arm. “Get up.”

“Huh? We don’t have to stop. I just need a minute.”

“I’m not stopping, stupid.” Kiyoomi pushed him up. “Come here.” He led him to a flat exercise bench and spun him around, holding his hips from behind. “Bend over.”

“But I said I was gonna do all the work—”

“I’m not letting you hurt your knee. No getting injured in the middle of the season, right?”

“I guess, but—”

“Atsumu!” Kiyoomi snapped. Ah, there was the Kiyoomi Atsumu had been looking for. Needy, frustrated. Out of control. “Bend. Over.”

“Yeah, okay,” Atsumu said shakily. He leaned forward, hands on the bench.

Kiyoomi’s first thrust forced him onto his elbows. He draped his body over Atsumu’s and fucked him hard, sweat falling from his curls. When Atsumu lost his balance, Kiyoomi kept him upright with a tight grip on his hip. His other hand tangled in Atsumu’s hair, pulling his head back.

“You feel amazing,” Kiyoomi breathed, sinking deep into him. “This is exactly what I needed.” He paused. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Atsumu said, his laugh turning into a moan when Kiyoomi slammed into him again.

He couldn’t speak to tell Kiyoomi he was close, but he must have sensed it, because the hand around Atsumu’s waist dropped to his cock. Kiyoomi spread precome over his shaft, working him in perfect time with his thrusts.

Atsumu knew he was close, too. “Kiyoomi,” he moaned. “Come for me, baby, fill me up—”

Kiyoomi’s hips stuttered once, twice, and he was coming, the pulses of it sending Atsumu over the edge with him. He spilled onto the bench as Kiyoomi spilled inside him, Kiyoomi’s careful strokes on his cock becoming erratic as he shook with his own orgasm. He slumped against Atsumu’s back, panting.

“Holy shit,” Atsumu said. “Holy shit, that was…”

“Yeah, it was.”

Atsumu was on the verge of collapsing. “Omi, I love ya, but ya gotta get off me,” he said. Kiyoomi pulled out. He was gentle, but Atsumu still winced at the emptiness.

He faced Kiyoomi. He looked as exhausted as Atsumu felt, but he managed to sneer at the mess they’d made. “We have to clean this up. Now.”

“Ugh,” Atsumu said. “Fine.”

They used Kiyoomi’s towel to clean their bodies and paper towels and sanitizer for the machines. Kiyoomi wrinkled his nose when Atsumu wiped his come from the bench. “Don’t make that face,” Atsumu said. “You put it there.”

“It’s still disgusting.”

They disposed of everything in the garbage, making sure the condom was well-hidden among the towels, and took the elevator upstairs. Atsumu’s phone said it was past three a.m.

Their floor was quiet. “Guess Bokkun calmed down,” Atsumu said.

“Mm.” Kiyoomi yawned, blinking tearily. 

“Ya wanna sleep in my room?” Kiyoomi was only cuddly after sex, and Atsumu wasn’t going to miss the opportunity.

“Okay.”

They let themselves into the suite and Atsumu’s room. Kiyoomi tossed his clothes on the floor and fell onto the bed, not even complaining about how messy it was. Atsumu brought them two cups of water and plugged his phone in before joining him.

He kicked Kiyoomi’s legs out of the way and pulled the blanket over them. “Ya feel better now, Omi?”

Kiyoomi didn’t answer. He was already asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at kyrstin.tumblr.com!


End file.
